


Condolence

by epersonae



Series: Termination Notice [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (i guess), F/F, Fantasy Big Box Stores, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Shoplifting, bereavement, workplace drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epersonae/pseuds/epersonae
Summary: The Regulators get a beer and chip in on a gift. Carey and Boyland have a side bet. Killian does some thinking and asks a question.





	Condolence

**Author's Note:**

> A follow-up to [Termination Notice](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13847880). Thank you to @emi_rose for suggesting a paperweight and glitter pens. Thank you to @bluecoloreddreams for the line from Carey about the "orc boy" in the most recent chapter of Down in the Valley for getting me thinking about some world-building stuff.

The three of them were on one of their occasional jaunts planetside: Boyland to visit the kids, Carey to check on her brother, and Killian just wanted a break from the moon. (Honestly, she hoped to spend a little more down time around Carey, but if you had suggested it, you might not live to see the next day.)

She went for a long hike with a view of the ruins of Armos, where she could think about what she was doing, what they were doing. Not that she wasn’t clear, exactly, but sometimes she just needed a little reminder. Hills of giant ants where there used to be a thriving city were a pretty good reminder.

They met up again at a tavern a few towns over from Boyland’s family: he lived in some pretty insular hill dwarf country, and it wasn’t a great place for either an orc or a dragonborn to get a beer in peace, honestly. He always gave them an apologetic shrug, but Killian knew he’d been involved in some local politics, back before he got into the Bureau, and that was the only reason she wouldn’t have been shot on sight. With Boyland, there was always more than what you saw on the surface.

“You talk to the Director about Brad?” he asked, after they’d gotten their drinks and found a seat in the back of the tavern. It wasn’t a great bar, by any means, but it was someplace where they could drink without someone throwing either slurs or punches.

“She didn’t even know,” said Killian, after taking a long swig of her beer.

Carey held out a hand to Boyland. “Hand it over, bud.”

Killian gave Carey a hard look. “You guys made a bet about whether the boss knew about Brad and Brian.”

“He totally thought she did, and that just didn’t track, honestly. If she’d know, there would’ve been Rites.”

Boyland harrumphed, chewing on his cigar. “Figured traitor’s a traitor,” he said. “No Rites for traitors.”

“Then you’re more of a hard-ass than she is,” said Killian. “She asked me if she should’ve.”

“See, that’s what I’m saying,” said Carey. “She’s got that —” and Carey waved her hands while making a stern face, “but really if you watch, she’s actually a huge fuckin’ softie.”

Killian made a thoughtful noise. “I guess. Not _that_ much of a softie. I mean, you know, she sends us out for a reason.”

They all nodded, then clanked their glasses together — “to balance” — before taking a drink in unison.

“Speaking of which,” said Carey as she set down her glass, “what are those new Reclaimers like?”

“Oh yeah,” said Boyland. “I hear they wanged it up pretty bad with the whole oenixphay irefay auntletgay situation.”

Killian winced, staring down into her beer. The Director had said it was probably all going to go sideways, that she needed to be ready to protect not just herself, but these other adventurers? For some reason?

“They’re a real, uh, mixed bag,” she said. “Some clever moves, and fuck, I’ve never seen anyone handle an actual, you know, before but also….” She rolled her eyes. “Gotta trust boss knows what she’s about, I guess.”

The three of them drink in silence for a little while, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Is a mug a tacky condolence gift?” asked Boyland, finally. “Flowers seem kinda, I dunno….” He shrugged.

“He’d probably like it,” said Carey. “Something, you know, inspirational? Like a quote or something?”

“Oh, I think I saw something that would work,” said Killian. “At Fantasy Office Depot in Neverwinter, it had like an eagle on it. Something really corny about soaring?”

Boyland digs in his pocket and passes over a gold piece smelling of tobacco. “I’m in.”

“You want company?” asks Carey.

“Sure. No shoplifting, though. I don’t wanna get thrown out again.”

Carey raises one hand. “On my honor, Kill, no shoplifting.”

Boyland drains his glass. “I should probably get home to the kids. Big dinner planned, something like that. Probably gonna stay over, the spouses say they’ve been lonely. Dunno how, but I’ll catch up with you ladies later.”

//

Carey doubled over, breathing hard and laughing, as they came to a stop in a thicket outside of the city walls. Killian tapped her bracer to summon their ride home, shaking her head.

“Dammit, Carey, I said no shoplifting.”

“I didn’t shoplift the mug for Brad. He totally would’ve known. That’s why I waited until you were done. I just needed to, you know.” She wiggled her fingers. “Don’t want to get rusty.” Then she mumbled, “‘Sides, you look cute when you’ve been running.” A pause, as Carey’s blue skin flushed purple. Then she pulled a bag out of her coat. “Check it out: glitter pens!” Out of another pocket, she pulled out a sheaf of notebooks with a flourish. “Figured the boss could use a pick-me-up too.”

Killian scratched her head, looking at the bag of glitter pens and the notebooks with neon covers. “That’s...that’s real thoughtful, Care.”

“Wait, one more thing,” she said, digging into yet another pocket. “Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

Killian did, a little nervously. Something cool and heavy — glass? — sat in her big palm. When she opened her eyes, she saw a paperweight. With dozens of tiny yellow ducks suspended in it.

“Aw, man, Carey. Really?”

Carey shrugged. “Reminded me of you, I guess. Hey, our ride’s here.”

The whole way back, as Carey talked about past shoplifting escapades, Killian looked down at the land below and in her hand, the paperweight. She thought about Brad, soldiering along quietly, and the wholly inadequate gift of an inspirational mug. About Brian, so excited about wedding plans, and now: gone. And the gauntlet, so close she could hear it begging her to set the world aflame, thankfully gone as well.

She looked at Carey, weird, grinning, enthusiastic Carey, and she thought: yeah, maybe it’s going to be okay.

“You wanna check out the new Chug and Squeeze with me?” she blurted out. Carey smiled.

“Sounds like fun.”


End file.
